


Changing the Future

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene Hunt discovers he is the next of kin for a small baby.  Sam is surprised by what follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Life on Mars reversebang.

Sam Tyler raced down the hospital corridor, to find Gene Hunt sitting at the far end of it, and next to him a baby in a cot.

“What happened?” he asked urgently.  “I came as soon as Chris gave me the message.  I assumed you’d been hurt.”

Sam paused.  As far as he could see Gene was unhurt, although his expression was one of complete shock.

Gene looked up.  “I’m the next of kin.”  He sounded broken.

“What?”  Sam was struggling to process this statement.  “You mean he, she, is yours?”

“He.  And no.  It seems the old man had an affair; I knew nothing about it.  There was a child, Nina, and that child went on to have a child herself, father unknown.”  Gene showed Sam the piece of paper he’d been staring at when Sam had arrived.  “And I’m next of kin.”

“Is it possible someone’s set you up in some way?”

“It all looks genuine.  So now I’ve got a baby.”

“What do you mean, _you’ve_ got a baby?”

“Well, if you want to be picky, _we’ve_ got a baby.  For the moment, although I imagine you’ll want to leave as soon as you can.”

“Gene, slow down.  You’re not making any sense.  What about the baby’s mother?”

“Nina?  She died this morning.  Nothing suspicious – it’s what drink, drugs and being on the game will do to you.”

“But there must be forms to complete.  You know, paperwork?”

“Oh, yes.  I’ve done those.  Temporary guardian, although the social worker said if there were no problems it could easily become permanent guardian.”

“Gene, you’re willingly taking on responsibility for a baby.  I’m speechless.”

“Makes a change.  This might be Thomas’ only chance to escape the life his mother and grandmother had, so I’m not going to let him miss it if I can.”

“So why did you ask me to come?”

“I need a lift home.”

***

Sam had immediately assumed Gene’s feeling of responsibility for the baby would quickly wane, once Thomas started crying, needing feeding and changing, and waking them at all hours of the night.  But two weeks after his decision, Gene was still determined he was going to bring the baby up.

It hadn’t been easy, but with the assistance of Gene’s female relatives, plus some of the WPCs, they had managed to organise sufficient help to ensure Thomas received the necessary care.  Sam had the distinct impression, whilst the relatives were happy to help, none of them wanted to find themselves in the position of long-term responsibility for the baby.

The WPCs were more of a stop gap provision, for when Gene and Sam rushed into the station with Thomas in his carrier.  There was always a willing volunteer to nurse the baby until whichever relation was on duty turned up to collect him.

When they weren’t working Sam and Gene shared the care.  At first, Sam had seemed much better at dealing with Thomas, but it hadn’t taken Gene long to overcome his own perceived lack of ability and now anyone seeing him holding the baby would have assumed he was the natural father.

It was the weekend, and barring major incidents Sam and Gene were free until Monday.  Sam stretched out lazily in the bed and then realised Gene was no longer there.  He listened and could hear sounds from within the kitchen, and the unmistakeable smell of burnt toast wafted up the stairs.  Sam sat up and listened more carefully.  Gene was talking to the baby, telling Thomas his plans for the day.  Sam smiled; Gene would deny having done so if asked.

Then he heard Gene continue.  “What are you going to call us then?  All this ‘Uncle Gene’ and ‘Uncle Sam’ stuff is all very well, but what you really need is a Dad.  You could do with a Mum as well, but even with his occasional girly ways Sam’ll never answer to ‘Mummy’.  But he could be a ‘Daddy’.  And I’ll be ‘Dad’.  And we’ll leave worrying about what you’ll call us when you’re too big for Daddy.  So what do you reckon?”

Sam had slipped noiselessly down the stairs and answered, “I think you’ll make a great ‘Dad’.  And if you want me to be ‘Daddy’ then I’d be delighted.”

“Hmpf.” 

Sam wondered whether Gene was going to raise some objection after all, but he smiled and merely said, “You take Thomas and I’ll have a second attempt at the toast.”

It wasn’t long before Thomas fell asleep, so Sam laid him carefully in his crib and went to help Gene cook the breakfast. 

Initially Sam had worried they would have to buy baby equipment and had been uncertain as to what they would need.  Once more there had been no problems.  Nina had had a few items, but as soon as Gene’s relatives, plus the whole of the nick, knew about the baby, second-hand carriers, baths and clothing came rushing in. 

Sam reflected had he and Maya had a child, they would have been out buying the best of everything, but having grown up with hand-me-downs he knew it wasn’t the value of the goods which mattered in raising the child.  His mother had ensured he grew up in a loving home even though his father had left.  Thomas would equally never be short of love.

Having eaten, Sam went to get dressed and was back just as Thomas woke, ready for the next bottle.  He picked the baby up, settled him in the crook of his arm, and began feeding him.

“I’m sure this child drinks more than the books say he should,” Sam said.

“He’s just getting in practice for when he’s old enough to be downing pints,” Gene replied.  He paused, clearly thinking back a few days.  “Oh, that’s why you wouldn’t let me see your library books when you came in the other night.  And there was I, thinking it was the latest Patrick O’Brian book which you were hiding in case I managed to read it before you.”

“Not much chance of that,” Sam replied.  “I’m pretty sure you’ve somehow bribed the librarian to keep it hidden until you go in.”

“Maybe.”  A lesser man would have blushed; Gene Hunt didn’t.  “So what did you get?  _Bringing Up The Unexpected Baby: A Guide for the Unwary_?”

Sam laughed.  “Not quite.  _The Joys of Your New Baby.  Embracing Motherhood_.”

Gene laughed so loudly Thomas stopped sucking and gave him what Sam took to be a reproachful look.

Sam continued, “There weren’t many to choose from and this one had the best pictures.”

“Do they include before and after pictures for when your baby has dribbled milk down your shirt?”

Sam looked down.  “What?  Oh bother.  Gene, where’s the cloth?  I’d better burp him.  And no doubt get milk down the back as well as the front of my shirt.  And no, the book doesn’t mention the amount of washing one small baby causes.  It does talk rather a lot on bonding with the baby.  It says we should be singing to him, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?  I’ve got a good voice.”

“It’s more the songs you’d choose I’d be worried about.”

“Nothing wrong with a few City anthems.”

“There’s everything wrong with a City anthem,” Sam said.  “Here, you take him, while I go and change my shirt.  Did I hear you telling him we were going to feed the ducks?”

“Might have.  I bet your book says it’s good for babies to get fresh air.”

“Sounds good to me.  I presume I’m pushing the pram.”

“No, it’s okay.  I can push him there.  You can push him on the way back.”

“That’s uphill!”

“Is it really?  Well, if you don’t think you’re strong enough …”

“Haha, very funny.  Get him ready and I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”

While he was upstairs Sam could hear Gene singing a City anthem to him, before he broke off and started muttering.  Concerned there might be a problem, Sam hurried downstairs to find Gene struggling to insert Thomas into his coat.  The baby was refusing to co-operate; every time Gene successfully got one arm into a sleeve the other would re-emerge.

Sam laughed.

“Don’t stand there laughing,” Gene said.  “Come and give me a hand.”

Between the two of them they finally got the baby dressed and into his pram.

“That was hard work,” Sam grumbled.

“I’ve known villains it’s been a lot easier to handcuff,” Gene agreed.  “Right, let’s get off before anything else happens.”

They set off down the road, side by side, Gene pushing the pram.  They received a few strange looks and one or two comments which they ignored.

Once they had reached the park, Sam said to Gene, “I really didn’t believe you would push the pram.  You must have known how people would react.”

“Yep.  But you told me once, if you want people to change you need to begin with yourself.  And if I want a better future for Thomas, then I need to be the one who begins the change.  But enough of that.  Have you got the bread for the ducks?”

“No, I thought you’d brought it.”

“Tyler.  I brought the baby.  You could at least have brought the bread.”

 


End file.
